


Intermission

by cherryvanilla



Series: Broadway Damage [4]
Category: Actor RPF, Broadway RPF
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life's a show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intermission

_June 20, 2010_

He isn’t at the 7pm show and you try not to be disappointed. It went well and your parents are proud but despite everyone there to support you, you still found yourself foolishly scanning the crowd. After all, it’s not like you reminded him so it’s possible he forgot. Before you left for London you attended the Tony’s with Lea. The second she saw you she pointed and said, “There’s something up. You look far too relaxed for someone who is meeting with West End producers tomorrow.”

You shook your head, laughing slightly. You could never keep much from her. The entire night she poked and prodded and forced you to admit that fine, okay, you got laid.

She put one hand on her hip and said, “No, it’s more than that.”

“It’s not,” you gritted your teeth and plastered on a smile for the cameras as you walked the red carpet. “So please stop.”

“Since when you do not tell me things?” And you could hear her pout through her smile.

You sighed heavily. _Since I don’t even know what to say_ , you thought.

“I will, okay?” You squeezed her closer.

“Okay,” she relented.

So that night you got spectacularly drunk (probably a ill-advised decision given the international flight you were embarking on the next day) and told her you had gone on a handful of dates with a semi-closeted Star Trek actor. You carefully omit the sex in the bathroom part.

She was somewhat surprised you would even entertain the notion of dating someone who wasn’t out. “He must be special, then,” she said by the end of the evening when she was slurring her words.

You ignored her and got away with it only because her eyes were closing.

While away, he sent you texts again and called you one afternoon. He told you about LA, you told him about London and although part of you expected phone sex to be involved, it wasn’t. There were no ‘can’t wait to see you’s’ this time around and part of you wondered if that was that, then.

_____________________

You mingle with family and friends before heading backstage to the dressing room. You are pacing, eyes closed, adrenaline pumping, when you hear a rap at the half-open door.

You open your eyes and there he is, smiling. He’s scruffy, a little tan and looks so fucking good.

“Hey there, Broadway.”

“Hey,” you respond, willing your voice to stay steady. “You came.”

“Said I would,” he replies, casually, as if the alternative wasn’t even a possibility. “How’d you do so far?”

“Good, I think. Fucked up some notes here and there. Audience seemed into it, though.”

“I’m sure you were great,” he says, and it sounds sincere. You notice his eyes roaming over your shirt and you’re suddenly happy you went with a fitted tee. “I’m excited.”

You smile, suddenly inexplicably nervous, and your palms itch.

“Thanks. It’s good to see you.”

His eyes flash and he moves forward until you’re inches apart. His gaze slides down to your arms and you swallow.

“You too,” he whispers and cups his arm around the back of our neck. Your lip meet, slow and exploratory. You lose yourself in the feel of his lips again, surprised at the response he elicits from you. Your hand is clutching his shoulder and his mouth turns hungry against yours, a little desperate. You find yourself pressing your body against his, a moan releasing from low in your throat when you hear, “Jon, get out there – oh!”

You grin sheepishly against Zach’s lips although you do notice he stiffens in your arms. You rub a hand reassuringly down his arm, and whisper, “It’s cool,” against his mouth before breaking out of his grasp.

“Theo, this is Zachary. Zach, Theo Stockman.”

“I know you,” Theo says, extending his hand.

“And I know you – but it’s more a knowledge of personas, wouldn’t you say?” Zach says, shaking Theo’s hand.

You swallow down a grin. He’s kind of a charming asshole at times and you love it.

“Hmm, true. Good to actually meet you. Uh, Jon, you should get out there.”

Zach turns back to you, eyes still dark and suddenly intently focused again. “I’ll leave you to it. Good luck,” he says and leaves.

Theo stares at you. “Dude. You were just sucking face with Sylar.”

You roll your eyes and take a drink of water. “And here I thought you’d opt for the obvious Star Trek reference.”

He snorts. “Screw that, I’d take Heroes over Trek any day.”

You clap him on the back. “This is why you’re one of a kind, Theo.” You’re vaguely surprised Lea didn’t tell him but decide not to mention it.

You feel even more energized during the second show. Your eyes meet his occasionally and once again he looks focused. Theo must have called him over because he’s sitting with your friends; your parents are to the table to the left.

Afterward you want nothing but to kiss him until his lips are raw but there’s fans to greet and people to talk to. You find him talking with Theo and your tightly knit group. When you walk over his face lights up. You’re pulled into individual hugs by everyone. When you find yourself in front of him, he claps you on the shoulder. You’d feel disappointed if it weren’t for the way he was staring at you: he looks utterly impressed.

Your parents wander over and you introduce them to the people they haven’t met, Zach included. It makes you feel completely uncomfortable and you can’t help wondering if he’s freaking out on the inside. It’s far too early to meet one’s parents but you allow for the fact that this was a special occasion.

He doesn’t look fazed in the slightest and that’s even more impressive than what you just did onstage. The plans were to go to a diner afterward. You didn’t inform Zach because you honestly had no clue if he was coming.

He’s down with the idea. You sit next to him, your parents across from you. There are about nine people all told. You try to balance as much conversation as you can, but notice you haven’t really talked to him one on one since the venue. He talks mainly with Theo and you can hear him admiring Theo’s Daniel Johnston shirt.

You’re talking to your parents about Death Trap when you feel his hand settle on your thigh. Your words falter for a second and then you’re masking a smile and cover his hand with your own. He rubs ever so slowly and your cock twinges in interest.

You squeeze his hand and wonder how much longer you have to stay.

It’s close to one when everyone heads their separate ways. And then it’s just the two of you standing on the curb, watching traffic fly by. You start walking together, destination unknown.

“Sorry about,” you wave, “all that.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he says, looking at you. “They’re all great.”

You nod. “Lea couldn’t come tonight but I’m sure Theo gave you an earful.”

Zach laughs. “Uh, yeah, just a bit. Boy’s got it bad.”

“She’s worse,” you groan. “If you can believe that.”

He doesn’t say anything and then suddenly you’re being pulled into an alleyway. He presses you up against the brick, hands slipping beneath your leather jacket. He stares at you for a second, and then ducks his head in a shaky laugh. “I fucking missed you,” he says, not meeting your eyes, as if the words are just as surprising to say as they are for you to hear.

 _I missed you too_ , you think but in lieu of the words, you cup his face in your hands and pull him into a kiss. He groans and presses you fully against the building, your bodies straining against one another. He runs his hands down your arms and you want to shed your jacket and feel his touch directly on your skin.

“You looked so hot up there,” he mouths against your neck, his teeth dragging over your Adam’s apple.

One of his hands drifts down to your stomach, first rubbing over the fabric of your shirt and then slipping underneath. You know you’re not as in shape as you could be, that when he touches you he obviously feels that but he doesn’t appear superficial about those things. In fact, the way he’s touching you, fervently, while he licks slowly back up to your mouth, seems to reveal he wants to map every inch of you.

You slide your hands down his back and grip his ass, fitting him even closer. His leg falls between yours and you rock together, barely moving, mouths grazing and kissing with mostly just tongue until he twists his fingers in your hair, holding you in place, and kisses you so deep it’s like he’s trying to crawl inside you. You moan loudly, unable to help it, and arch upward. When he releases you, your lips are swollen and you’re breathing hard.

His eyes are so dark and his mouth is red. “I’m gonna make you wait this time,” he says, biting at your jaw. “

“Zach..” you start, thumbing the zipper of his jeans, brushing along his erection.

You hear a sharp intake of breath but he pulls away. “Later.” He runs a hand down your cheek. “Your eyes are red. You’re exhausted.”

You seriously want to whine in protest, but stop yourself. Instead, you tug his earlobe between your teeth. “No guy is ever too tired to come.”

You hear him suck in a breath at the feel of your teeth.

His hold on your neck tightens and he licks your neck. “Correction: you’re too tired for all of the things I want to do to you.”

You shiver, unbidden images fleeting through your mind.

“Besides,” he continues, dragging his teeth along your pulse. “Anticipation is a good thing.”

He kisses you again before you can respond, your mouths brushing over and over, sharing unsteady breaths. “I don’t want you to jerk off,” he whispers. “I want you to think about this all day.”

You tug on his lower lip and drag your hand slowly over his ass. “Same for you, then,”

“Deal,” he breathes before kissing you once more.

You straighten your clothes and walk unsteadily towards the street. When a cab pulls up, he steps in close and runs his tongue over your bottom lip. “You’re incredible. I’ll call you. And get some rest. I have plans for you this evening.”

Your cock jerks at his words and you lick between his lips. He grins at you and gets into the cab.

“Fucking tease!” You call out, laughing.

He flips you off.

___________

Naturally, your body is humming in anticipation after that and you can’t sleep. You log online and, on impulse, load up twitter. In true teenage girl fashion you decided to create a non-descript account mainly to follow people. Okay, mainly to follow _him_. And you added Barack Obama for good measure. You see his tweet immediately and your heart races:

 _i couldn’t sleep if i wanted to_

He wrote it 16 minutes ago. You echo the sentiment to yourself and stare at the screen, smiling while your heart does somersaults in your chest. You take out your phone and begin typing ‘I missed you too.’ You stare at the words and then back at your computer screen. You hit delete. You can’t think of anything in place of them. All you want to do is tell him you can’t sleep either. You look at his comment once more before shutting down your commuter.

Tomorrow (well technically today, you remind yourself) seems too far away.

[end]


End file.
